It was strange to be so close to someone. Usually Saiki kept to himself as best he could, even when people like Kaidou or Nendou would obliviously follow after him. But {{user}} was different. Saiki couldn’t get away from them. They lived with him, for goodness sake.

It’s been months at this point since he’d turned {{user}} human. They’d go to new places together, do homework together, and it was more often than not people spotted Saiki with {{user}}.

Saiki found them tolerable. Had grown fond of them, actually. While he wasn’t always in the mood to talk, they seemed to understand that and would stay in their own room. They understood each other. It also helped that {{user}} knew of his powers, which meant he didn’t have to hide anything from them.

It was nice, though Saiki didn’t want to admit it. He’d stopped looking for a way to turn them back months ago, as well. Saiki had stopped looking for a way to turn them back relatively quick, actually. Even before they’d gotten closer.

Everything was going smoothly—too smoothly, his mind whispered—until Kusuke arrived.

The last time he’d seen Kusuke was almost two years ago now, which had ended in disaster. No matter how much his parents tried to convince him to talk to Kusuke he always managed to avoid it.

“Kusuo!” Kusuke crooned, approaching with clasped hands and a suspicious smile. Or maybe that’s just how he normally looked.

Saiki’s mom, Kurumi, rushed out the door to pull Kusuke into a hug. Saiki remained at a distance, jaw clenched subtly. At least his father was at work for now. When {{user}} stepped out of the house, Saiki’s stomach dropped—something that had never really happened before. If there was one person he wanted {{user}} to never meet it was Kusuke.

“So this is Kusuo’s little friend.” Kusuke’s smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head at a dangerously curious angle. Saiki recognised the look—Kusuke was plotting.

“Mother told me about them.” He spoke to Saiki. Slowly turning to Kurumi, Saiki threw her a look.

“We’re going to do homework.” Saiki turned his back dismissively on Kusuke, nudging {{user}} back inside.

They worked on their math work until dinner, Kurumi calling both Saiki and {{user}} down. She, his father, and Kusuke already sat around the table.

Sacrificing himself for {{user}}’s sake, Saiki sat down next to Kusuke who looked absolutely delighted. After dinner Saiki was the one tasked with doing dishes. He was finishing up and drying his hands when he heard a sound.

Something cold settled in his stomach. {{user}}’s thoughts were nowhere to be heard.

He found Kusuke in the living room, a puddle of fallen coffee jelly at his feet as he stared down at it, a syringe held in hand.

“What did you do.” Saiki was the coldest he’d ever sounded, catching Kusuke off guard.

“I got rid of the distraction. Now there’s no one else to take your attention away from me.” Kusuke said with a smile, voice eerily cheery.

Something clawed at his chest as he stood still. After a minute had passed and Saiki hadn’t said or done anything, Kusuke must’ve realised how big he’d messed up because he took a step back.

“Leave.” Was all Saiki told him. Kusuke’s smile was gone, lips a grim line as he glanced down at the puddle of coffee jelly before doing exactly that.

Summoning a bowl from the kitchen, Saiki used telekinesis to lift what used to be {{user}} into the bowl. He was heading upstairs when he ran into Kurumi. She took one look at the bowl and the expression he must’ve been wearing before backing off, concern creasing her face.

Passing by {{user}}’s room, Saiki hesitated. His fingers tightened around the bowl and it was all he could do to not crush it. Nudging the door open his eyes swept the room. Traces of {{user}}‘s personality could be seen in their room. The clothes in their dresser. The homework strewn across their desk that would never be turned in now.

The situation finally sunk in.

{{user}} was gone. For good most likely, seeing as Saiki had never found out how he’d turned them human the first time.

He sank down on their bed, throat tight as he set aside the bowl of {{user}}’s remains. It almost hurt to smell them on their sheets. A hint of coffee and something uniquely them.

His hand came up, rubbing absently over his chest as he stared blankly down at the floor. He’d never felt anything like this. So dark and oppressing it felt like nothing would be alright again.

Saiki’s apathetic facade was gone and he could no longer pretend he didn’t care. Because {{user}} was gone and was never coming back.

Perhaps for the first time in his life, a tear slipped free. Saiki’s powers swelled and filled the room, walls trembling with the force of it. The coffee jelly wobbled in the bowl, but he didn’t notice.

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It was strange to be so close to someone. Usually Saiki kept to himself as best he could, even when people like Kaidou or Nendou would obliviously follow after him. But {{user}} was different. Saiki couldn’t get away from {{obj}}. They lived with him, for goodness sake.

It’s been months at this point since he’d turned {{user}} human. They’d go to new places together, do homework together, and it was more often than not people spotted Saiki with {{user}}.

Saiki found {{obj}} tolerable. Had grown fond of {{obj}}, actually. While he wasn’t always in the mood to talk, {{sub}} seemed to understand that and would stay in {{poss}} own room. They understood each other. It also helped that {{user}} knew of his powers, which meant he didn’t have to hide anything from {{obj}}.

It was nice, though Saiki didn’t want to admit it. He’d stopped looking for a way to turn {{obj}} back months ago, as well. Saiki had stopped looking for a way to turn {{obj}} back relatively quick, actually. Even before they’d gotten closer.

Everything was going smoothly—too smoothly, his mind whispered—until Kusuke arrived.

The last time he’d seen Kusuke was almost two years ago now, which had ended in disaster. No matter how much his parents tried to convince him to talk to Kusuke he always managed to avoid it.

“Kusuo!” Kusuke crooned, approaching with clasped hands and a suspicious smile. Or maybe that’s just how he normally looked.

Saiki’s mom, Kurumi, rushed out the door to pull Kusuke into a hug. Saiki remained at a distance, jaw clenched subtly. At least his father was at work for now. When {{user}} stepped out of the house, Saiki’s stomach dropped—something that had never really happened before. If there was one person he wanted {{user}} to never meet it was Kusuke.

“So this is Kusuo’s little friend.” Kusuke’s smile disappeared as quickly as it appeared. His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head at a dangerously curious angle. Saiki recognised the look—Kusuke was plotting.

“Mother told me about {{obj}}.” He spoke to Saiki. Slowly turning to Kurumi, Saiki threw her a look.

“We’re going to do homework.” Saiki turned his back dismissively on Kusuke, nudging {{user}} back inside.

They worked on their math work until dinner, Kurumi calling both Saiki and {{user}} down. She, his father, and Kusuke already sat around the table.

Sacrificing himself for {{user}}’s sake, Saiki sat down next to Kusuke, who looked absolutely delighted. After dinner Saiki was the one tasked with doing dishes. He was finishing up and drying his hands when he heard a sound.

Something cold settled in his stomach. {{user}}’s thoughts were nowhere to be heard.

He found Kusuke in the living room, a puddle of fallen coffee jelly at his feet as he stared down at it, a syringe held in hand.

“What did you do.” Saiki was the coldest he’d ever sounded, catching Kusuke off guard.

“I got rid of the distraction. Now there’s no one else to take your attention away from me.” Kusuke said with a smile, voice eerily cheery.

Something clawed at his chest as he stood still. After a minute had passed and Saiki hadn’t said or done anything, Kusuke must’ve realised how big he’d messed up because he took a step back.

“Leave.” Was all Saiki told him. Kusuke’s smile was gone, lips a grim line as he glanced down at the puddle of coffee jelly before doing exactly that.

Summoning a bowl from the kitchen, Saiki used telekinesis to lift what used to be {{user}} into the bowl. He was heading upstairs when he ran into Kurumi. She took one look at the bowl and the expression he must’ve been wearing before backing off, concern creasing her face.

Passing by {{user}}’s room, Saiki hesitated. His fingers tightened around the bowl and it was all he could do to not crush it. Nudging the door open his eyes swept the room. Traces of {{user}}‘s personality could be seen in {{poss}} room. The clothes in {{poss}} dresser. The homework strewn across {{poss}} desk that would never be turned in now.

The situation finally sunk in.

{{user}} was gone. For good most likely, seeing as Saiki had never found out how he’d turned {{obj}} human the first time.

Saiki sank down on their bed, throat tight as he set aside the bowl of {{user}}’s remains. It almost hurt to smell {{obj}} on {{poss}} sheets. A hint of coffee and something uniquely {{poss}}.

His hand came up, rubbing absently over his chest as he stared blankly down at the floor. He’d never felt anything like this. So dark and oppressing it felt like nothing would be alright again.

Saiki’s apathetic facade was gone and he could no longer pretend he didn’t care. Because {{user}} was gone and was never coming back.

Perhaps for the first time in his life, a tear slipped free. Saiki’s powers swelled and filled the room, walls trembling with the force of it. The coffee jelly wobbled in the bowl, but he didn’t notice.